


A Vignette of a Time Long Past

by atwas



Category: Fallen Empires (Web Series), Internet Remix
Genre: Backstory, F/M, If I write it that means it's canon right?, Pre-Campaign
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26864563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atwas/pseuds/atwas
Summary: Once upon a time there was a Kobold and an Elf, and they were in love.
Relationships: Korellian Veles/Hespera Scion
Kudos: 3





	A Vignette of a Time Long Past

It's been a tenday and I've barely slept.

I can still see it happening. I will see it happening for the rest of my life. I need to have it tattooed on my heart and etched into my bones.

It's been a tenday and I ran.

Of course I ran. It's in my nature, my disgusting cowardly nature. She told me to flee. She told me that they would kill me, and she was right, I knew she was right. The height of that black-tipped arrow could only have meant that it was for me. Every day, I dutifully peel back the makeshift bandages just under my left collarbone and I clean the wound as best I can. At this point, the ritual is mechanical, and I no longer give a shit if it hurts me. I don't care that there is a heat that festers in my normally cool flesh. I no longer care, there is nothing for me.

It's been a tenday and I have barely managed to make it to a port town.

I skirt around the busiest sections of town and hide my eyes from the bright sunlight and make my way to the docks by following the scent of salt and stinking fish. I find the mangiest vessel that I can, and I begin to work alongside one of the crew. He pays no attention to me, probably because he's glad for the help, and I pay no attention to the fire that's burning underneath my scales and in my blood. When my arms buckle, I use my knees instead to steady the weight, and stagger aboard. I don't care what they're hauling. It's none of my business, and the sharp look and nod the Skipper gives me confirms that. I set foot on the deck with nothing but my bloody clothing and a mining pick that I managed to salvage on my flight.

We set sail as the sun slips below the waves.

I'm put to work in the belly of the ship. I'm a Kobold. I'm good with my claws--crafty and clever, they say. Truth be told, I was never that good at it. I learned to tinker through sheer stubbornness, but I'm good enough to maintain the rudimentary mechanicals they have below-decks; and staying below is a reprieve from the sun and the constant roiling of the waves as we make our way down the coast.

It's the second tenday, and I am delirious.

The crew have left me below decks in the small nook that I've taken for my sleeping quarters. Someone comes down with a skin of water, which was more kindness than I expected, but I can’t make out their face. Instead, my blood boils beneath my skin and I claw at the wound in a frenzy. I can feel the infection taking hold, and in my haze, I remember thinking that the arrow point was diseased and I deserve to suffer. I deserve this. I deserve all of this. How could I have done this? My life is worth nothing, less than nothing, so why won't I just let it happen? Just let it happen already!

I let the black slip over me. It's cold and quiet.

* * *

_ I can still see the blurry lights in the darkness. It is beautiful. There is music playing in the distance. She takes me by the claw and insists that I dance. _

I can't dance. 

I'll teach you.

_ I let her. She is patient and she is beautiful. _

_ She leads me through a simple dance, and when our feet inevitably tangle together, she laughs and my heart aches, heavy with love. _

_ I want to stay here forever. I want to stay here forever in the cool dewy grass, with the faint music in the air, with the lanterns flickering gently in the branches of the tree. I want to stay here forever with her. I tell her this and she smiles, and as the music in the distance shifts to a jauntier tune, she does a little flourish and spins me-- _

_ \--and by the time I see it, it's too late. _

_ With barely a sound, the assailant is gone and the arrow, that cursed black arrow, has found the wrong mark.  _

_ (It won't be until later, until the shock wears off, that I realize it pierced my chest and left a sliver of itself behind in my flesh) _

_ Her eyes are wide, and she turns to stare into the darkness. I don't know what she sees, but her knees buckle and I catch her. The arrow flew true, and it pierced her through with deadly precision. I fumble and press down with both claws around the shaft of the arrow, but it won't stop. Her dress is no longer blue. Oh gods it won't stop. _

_ She touches my face and gently turns me so that I look into her eyes. I don't understand. _

You need to run, Korellian.

I'm not leaving you.

You need to run, Korellian, they're coming. Someone tipped them off.

_ My eyes dart up and I can see shapes and torchlight approaching through the trees. _

I don't care, I'm not leaving you.

They are going to kill you Korellian.

I don't care! I won't let you die here!

_ Her eyes harden, and I realize that before, she was scared. Now, she is frustrated, and I hear the panic creeping into her voice. _

I am not letting you die with me.

_ I can taste the magic on her words, and I feel the spell settle into my bones. _

_ She smiles faintly. _

Korellian, promise…

_ Her eyes dim as the pursuing party breaks through the trees. I run. Like the Kobold I am. I feel the magic lengthen my stride, and I don't stop until I am long gone, and the sun is beginning to rise. _

* * *

My life may be worthless, but…

Her life is not.

_ I feel the black water on the tips of my claws. It is cool and comforting. _

Her life will not be forfeit because of me. I will not let her life be stolen away.

_ I feel a brightness behind me, and it ripples off the dark water. _

I will bring her her life back, and I will find the person who made that fatal mistake and make them wish that their arrow had never missed me in the first place.

I will do whatever it takes. This, I swear.

_ I turn and look into the blinding light. I make my choice. _

_ I reach out and take it. _

* * *

My fever breaks, and once I am awake, I pick the sliver of arrow out of my wound with the help of a dagger and my own claws.

The wound heals clean, but my scales never grow back over it.

I go back to work. The crew seems relieved, even if only because my recovery means that there's no need to deal with a dead body aboard.

It has been months, and I still can't get used to the waves or the way the salt cakes over my scales, but I cannot go back. 

It has been months and I take another job, and another, and another one after that. I sail to other continents that I barely set foot on because I am not ready to come back to dry land. Not yet.

It has been a year, and I am standing on the docks in one of the biggest port cities on the continent. People's eyes skim over me, thankfully, and I make my way to the Tinker's guild to put what skills I have cultivated to work.

It has been a year and I can still see it all, and I can feel the resolve burning in my chest. I save my money. I buy armour. I get my pick re-forged and tempered with harder steel until it is fashioned into a weapon of war.

It has been a year, and I can still feel my promise burning bright beneath my ribs. I plan to take one last job with the guild--a simple job, just minding a stand of wares at a local festival.

After that? After that, I plan to set out and make good on my promises.

  
  



End file.
